


Snatchertown One-shot collection

by Hawkogirl



Series: Snatchertown AU [8]
Category: Asagao Academy: Normal Boots Club
Genre: Blood, Drabble Collection, Fluff, I am gonna eat his left elbow, Im pissed right now Jared has no rights, Internalized Homophobia, Kinda, M/M, One Shot Collection, Soulmates, Wingfic, a ton probably aren't canon, thats not relevant im just mad, the first one sure isnt, vent - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-27
Updated: 2020-01-18
Packaged: 2020-09-28 01:17:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20417474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hawkogirl/pseuds/Hawkogirl
Summary: I write lots of these. So now there is a collection





	1. The soulmate AU im counting for asagao august

The stories said that the Snatcher had huge all-black wings, a sign that he lacked a soulmate, that he showed off to intimidate people.

...Jeff wasn’t sure about that. He had never seen the ghost without his wings hidden. Fully black wings meaning that someone didn’t have a soulmate had been proved to be bullshit years ago, not to mention monochrome wings of any color were incredibly rare. He’d never met anyone with monochrome wings. Jeff’s were black, with streaks of pastel purple and turquoise running through them, Austin’s were white, with feather tips that were a dark shade of red-blood red, some might say, and his other roommate, Jimmy, had wings similar to a kestrel’s.

None of the three had met their soulmate yet, but Austin’s friends, Mai and Hana, had known each other since high school, and Mai did enjoy showing of her pale pink wings.

Part of Jeff wondered if the Snatcher really didn’t have a soulmate. He probably didn’t deserve that. And if he did, that poor soul…

And then things happen.

His opinion takes a 180.

Cardinal deserves god themself as a soulmate. Someone to treat him like something priceless. Which he was. Which Jeff did his best to treat him like. He was a king. 

They get closer. Jeff got his ass stabbed a few times by a cult. He got cuddled by a ghost man. The ghost man let him go, but Jeff stuck around and they became friends. Jeff knew he was innocent, and Cardinal seemed to understand he knew. 

Which was fantastic. Cardinal was starting to trust him. 

  
  
  


“Holy shit! What happened to you!” 

Not an abnormal response to seeing your friend stumble in bleeding and bruised. 

Cardinal collapsed onto the couch without another word, causing Jeff to rush over and grasping one hand in his, pulling him somewhat upwards. Cardinal flopped onto his chest, gasping for breath. “It was a bad night.”

Jeff stroked his hair gently. “Can I go get you the first aid kit?” He offered.

Cardinal nodded, flopping ungracefully onto the couch, and snuggling into a ball like a cat. Jeff smiled, fostering a spark of affection in his heart for a moment before he squeezed his hand and left to grab the first aid kit and bandages he’d learned to keep with him. 

Retrieving his backpack, he hesitated, shaking Cardinal softly until he whined and shifted. Eventually the ghost got into a position somewhat vertical again, insisting upon cuddling with Jeff as much as possible. 

Had he lost a lot of blood, or was he just tired?

Pressing gentle lips to the ghost’s forehead-causing a slight giggle, he began to pull the layers of cloth off the gash on his arm. He wove his fingers with Cardinal’s and began dabbing at the bleeding wound with a wet cloth. The ghost hissed and squeezed Jeff’s hand. 

A part of his mind strayed to how funky neat it would be if his soulmate was the adorable ghost man on his chest. Because honestly he’d like that very much, universe. Ghost boyfriend, please?

A bunch of cuts are bandaged and a few bandaids are thrown onto scrapes, and one cuddle boy is as patched up as he can get him, and completely content to start falling asleep in his arms. 

“Do you wanna lay down in bed?” Jeff caressed Cardinal’s hair gently. 

The spirit nodded, allowing Jeff to guide him to bed. 

“Jeff?” He mumbled, as Jeff shifted the blankets to one side. 

Jeff made a sound of acknowledgement, and Cardinal sat on the blanketless spot. 

He spoke low, as if he were about to reveal a great secret, but he sounded so tired it made Jeff giggle. “I wanna tell you something before I don’t wanna.” 

“Okay?”

Cardinal smiled softly, revealing his wings. They sure are huge, and black. But here’s the thing-Jeff can see streaks of turquoise and pastel purple. Cardinal’s are identical to his own. 

“Oh my god.”

Golden eyes went wide and Cardinal pressed his back to the wall. “Please don’t be mad. I shouldn’t have done that.” He looked so worried and scared; the facade had broken for a moment and Jeff realized how broken he was. 

He sat down on the bed. “I’m glad. I’m so excited that I get you. You deserve the world, and I want to give it to you.” Jeff’s throat seemed to tighten. “Y’know, for the last few weeks I had been hoping it was you.” 

Cardinal looked so hopeful, and it’s one of the few times the ghost had the courage to reach for the other’s hand first. “Me too.” 

Jeff pushed Cardinal onto his side. “I think you might be too tired to have this conversation.” He laid down beside him before he slid the blankets over him. “We can talk more tomorrow.”

Ghost boyfriend acquired. Must treat him right and hold his hand. And cuddle him. Maybe kiss his cheek. Tell him he’s pretty and that he loves him. 


	2. In which Hawky let herself from like 2 years ago write a vent fic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Uhhhh tw for like. Internalized homophobia, twisted self-perception, etc. The narrator is not at all reliable because I myself am a stupid lesbian

Cardinal had professionally determined the universe didn’t want him to be happy. 

He’d thought that maybe, maybe for once, he’d be cut some slack. Maybe he could have something.

...It was weird. It was his own fault he wasn’t allowing himself to have this. It was his own fault he couldn’t keep his emotions in check. He wasn’t supposed to feel like this and he knew it, yet he did anyway. He wasn’t going to let himself have this; for his own sake and Jeff’s.

Jeff didn’t deserve to be burdened with the things Cardinal knew he shouldn’t feel.

What he felt was  _ wrong  _ and  _ disgusting  _ and he  _ knew  _ that so why couldn’t he stop having these feelings? Was he really just that sick? And if he was, how could he cure this? 

He couldn’t, could he?

He’d had these same, unnatural feelings for one of his old friends. He hadn’t been able to force those thoughts away, only repress them. 

Repression also had a bad history with him. Repression meant things fell apart at his fingertips, things slowly turned dark and disintegrated.

He couldn’t let himself be near Jeff, yet his emotions couldn’t take letting Jeff go. He could hurt Jeff, but Jeff was healing him. Was he really so greedy as to force Jeff to stay out of desperation?

He didn’t have a lot of self-control.

It would be difficult for anyone, honestly. Jeff gives out his attention and affection so freely it's almost like he’s noticed how much Cardinal wants it. Yeah, right. If he did, he’d want to give less. God, Cardinal wished he was capable of the same, to just reach out and grab the other’s hand with ease, under the knowledge Jeff wouldn’t pull away.

He can’t let himself, because he’s scared of what would happen. If Jeff would pull away, if he’d accept it. If Jeff accepted it on a platonic level, or if he had the same twisted emotions towards Cardinal.

...And if it was the second one, what happened then? 

They started a relationship based off their inherently wrong emotions and impulses towards one another, Jeff being bent into a relationship with an elementally evil creature-realistically, Cardinal was that- and Cardinal was in a relationship he wanted and was desperate for but neither deserved or knew was right. They loved each other, some poisoned type of love, and they treated each other well, he supposed, but it was still  _ bad.  _ What would happen if people found out?    
  


Why did he want that to be real?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi gays do have rights love yourself snatch man
> 
> Comments are valued and so are kudos


	3. Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tw for gore

The chains dig into his limbs, biting and ripping his skin wherever he moves them, wearing at the dark scales around his hands and wrists. He’s simply dangling there, the feelings of uselessness returning to him. 

There’s mud and dried blood crusted along every inch of skin on his body, his hair is greasy, matted into gross clumps. It’s been months since he was clean, and he wants nothing more than to lay in any sort of water and feel the dirt leave his body. Water can only wash away so much. It can’t fix the scars, physical and mental, and the layers of grime that seems to cover his psyche at any given time, the damage that seems impossible to repair. 

He shifts slightly, the sweat and blood soaked rags that are frankly a pathetic excuse for clothing a constant, though comparatively minor compared to many other things, discomfort. 

Forcing his eyes open, his empty gaze traveling to a figure he hadn’t noticed was there before that moment. Whoever they are, they look identical to every other person here. They do not speak to him. He hasn’t been spoken to in months. He hasn’t spoken to anyone in months. 

They set a worn and ratty looking briefcase onto a table, snapping it open. With a sort of dramatic flair, they pull a small syringe out of it. 

He can guess what’s about to happen, but he can’t summon the motivation to care. 

A small vial is emptied into the syringe, and two steps later, he flinches as cold hands pull the fabric of what was probably once a shirt away from his shoulder. His shoulder is wiped clean, the feeling he desires for a purpose that makes his stomach twist. 

The needle is pressed into his skin and it burns more than anything like this should. The burning spreads like a wildfire through his veins, as painful as a fire as well. 

He opens his mouth to say something, but he’s too dehydrated to speak.

The cultist observes him with no sort of empathy, seeing him as an experiment. They take notes, scribbling down words whenever he so much as moves. 

The burning fades from most of his body, becoming denser in his skin, which suddenly feels too tight. 

Pain suddenly bursts through his skin at multiple locations, burning, piercing, sharp pain, most obvious in his temples, though several other spots along his arms and skins are assaulted with a similar pain. 

Something’s tearing through his skin, sharp enough to pierce through with ease. It feels like large needles are being shoved through his skin from the inside, like some sort of burrowing creature is pushing outwards from inside him. 

He uses the last of his energy to turn his head slightly. 

There are small hornlike spikes poking through his skin. If he could, he might’ve laughed. Reality is cruel like that. Look at him, he’s already a monster, and reality has decided he must be even more of a monster than he already is. 

The pain eventually subsides, leaving him with rows of spikes down his arms and what he doesn’t doubt are to large horns sprouting from his temples. 

He’s hit with a moment of sudden lucidity as he stares at the wall. Reality strikes into his mind like a bolt of lightning. It’s ok. He’ll wake up soon. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments welcome


End file.
